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Not long ago, there was a great nation called The Great Apple. The Great Apple was located in the eastern part of the continent, owned more than tens of thousands of citizens living in the country. Before the death of the old king, the nation kept strong and rich, The Great Apple was regarded as the biggest country in the world.

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However, the old king died because of a terrible war. Later, the young king received the power as the only heir. Young king was not as merciful as the old king, instead, he was more than rude and arrogant. It was because he had a horrible nightmare about wigs that he ordered those who owned wigs would be killed after his stepping into the king’s seat. Unfortunately, this nation developed so fast owing to the wig industry, for that all the rich businessmen’s wife loved the beautiful wigs. Thus, the young king’s order was very hard to be carried out. He was so angry that sent a trumps of his own guards to the country and caught all the people who had wigs. His private army always lifted a black flag while hunting the wig businessmen, so the army also be called Black Devil.

Because the people who had wigs took up more than half of the whole population all around the nation, the killing job was so frequently and hard. The young king’s citizens were generating a great revolution to be against him. Not long later, a little nation named The Little Banana came to attack The Great Apple.

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Unluckily, the general who was sent to the front to fight against the enemy was the people loved wigs, and his mother was killed because of wigs. So, the result of the war was predictable. The general was defeated, and he ran away for avoiding the punishment from the young king. When he got away, he also took away part of king’s army who were loyal to the general himself rather than the king.

At this time, all the rebellion in the nation thought it as a good chance to turn over the young king. Soon, a new flag was made and put up on every citizens’ roof, writing on such words: For my wigs! In that day, the rebellion army defeated the king’s black army and won the final success. And this event was record as Wig War by historians.

I couldn’t remember how many times has the little girl come to my store to see the wigs.

This were the wigs I just purchased one month ago, with abundant variety and new types, which were very popular. She was fifteen or so, with a red face, plain clothes, like a student. I remembered the girl came to my shop for the first time and stood long in front of a kind of wig. “Do you want to buy wigs?” I saw the girl’s mind and asked kindly. She said, “Auntie, how much is this?”" I gave her an offer, and she was so surprised. Then I enthusiastically recommended her other styles of wigs. The girl smiled and said, “I still like that short hair wig.”

Since then, the little girl came to the shop to see the wig regularly, then stood in the wig with a face of thirst. Little by little, I became familiar with the little girl and knew the real reason why she wanted to buy a wig. Originally, three years ago, the little girl with her parents from Gansu Tian-shui to Xinjiang to work, parents as unskilled one at the site, she in a middle school. A year ago, my mother collapsed on the construction site and went to the hospital for an examination for a terminal cancer. In order to chemotherapy, the family not only spent all their savings, the mother of a black, beautiful hair also stripped off. Every time I look into the mirror, my mother is crying. She knew how much she wished her black hair would grow back, even if it were not the original black curls, but it was impossible.

It was her greatest wish to buy her a wig like her hair. But the family has no extra money to meet the mother’s last month’s little wish. She has been sad and sad about it. When I know there are half a month to her mother, my heart is like a knife, hurt. On that day, the little girl came again. She pulled out a large sum of 45 yuan and five yuan from her clothes. She said sadly, “Auntie, I only have the money. I hope you sell me that wig. It looks like my mother’s hair.”.”

My heart trembled. Looking at the little girl’s red face still hung with tears, I could not reach out. I put her in the back and said, “Auntie won’t accept your money.”…… You need money more than your aunt.” At that time, the little girl froze, and she did not believe that I would not receive money. You know, the girl asked me a few times, and I didn’t pay any money. “Auntie, what’s the deal? You got the money, too.”.” She says. “The right to be an aunt to your mother.”.” I said seriously. The little girl wanted to say something again, and I was stopped. She held back tears and said a few words of thanks to me before leaving.

One day after the half moon, the little girl sent me a photo of her and her mother. The picture showed her mother wearing a wig and laughing very sweet and happy. Looking at the photo, I smiled happily. From then on, the little girl never came again, and what made me sad was that I didn’t ask her name. To this end, I could only silently bless her in the bottom of my heart: may you stay happiness and peace.

Mrs Xiao is a student in XXX University who has a long black hair, making other girls feel envy. One day, Mrs Xiao’s friend Mrs Qi asks why Mrs Xiao’s hair is so long and black. Xiaoqing gives a mysterious smile, slowly reveal the reason: every week she goes to a haircut shop located in the gate of their school, so her hair can be so long and black.

So Mrs Qi goes to the shop in a Friday. And the hair cutter tells her that all she need is to just have a full sleep, when she wakes up, everything will be completed. Half day has passed. Mrs Qi wakes up and finds that her hair becomes black and straight, and she knows that her hair was originally yellow and slightly curly before. “How much is this?” She asks. The cutter answers there is no need to pay money at first for it is a medical course and will take one or two months to show effects. All she needs to do is to come here every week. Mrs Qi is so happy and promises that and comes back home.

Next day, Mrs Qi’s classmates ask her why she went to the wig shop last day. Mrs Qi is so strange and answers that she have not gone to the wig shop but the haircut shop. “Don’t you find that my hair has become so black and straight?” She asks her classmates. “Qi, how could your hair be as beautiful as Mrs Xiao’s.” her classmates said. Qi thought, “Yes, it certainly doesn’t work right now.” The bell rang and Qi returned to her seat. During class, she found that Mrs Xiao’s seat is empty. She feels so curious and wonders that there must be another wig shop beside the haircut shop.

The second week at the same time, Mrs Xiao appeared again, still with long black hair. After school, Mrs Xiao took Mrs Qi to the hair shop do care. There were many hair cares in that shop like hair extensions, clip in hair extensions and so on. So it lasted one or two months until the winter vacation. Mrs Qi washed her hair at home, and her hair fell off very seriously. When it was finished, the pond was full of hair, but Mrs Qi did not seem to know it. After the evening, when Mrs Qi fell asleep, Mrs Xiao appeared. “Shit, Mrs Qi’s hair is also in a low quality. Really don’t know whether there will be a buyer for it. Forget it. Let me take it back first.” At this time, the haircut shop is still on the run, but it has become a wig shop. Mrs Qi’s hair is priced as five hundred and thirty thousand Yuan.

In the morning, Mrs Qi woke up and found herself becoming an old woman with no hair. So she killed herself. She came to the underworld, where the ghosts had all kinds of hair. And they praised each other with only one sentence, “your wig looks so great.”

“Hey! Tomboy, tomboy!” As before, my friends and relatives always loved to call me that. But what could I do, why should I have a black shiny short hair! One day, I was lying on the bed to watch TV, listlessly and lackadaisically. All of a sudden, an abandoned black wool caught my attention. I touched my own hair and told to myself, “Hey, this is great! God help me, I can do wigs myself for me. So since then they won’t call me tomboy any more, and the wool also can be turned into treasure from waste.”

Well, start right now and brave it out! I picked up a fine wire and curled it into a circle which was as big as my head. Then, I cut a piece of wool into many lines of equal length with scissors. Next, tying them all to the wires. “Well, this is really troublesome. How long will it take?” But at the thought of the “tomboy”, I couldn’t help but do it again. Afterwards, I got some colourful little clips and glued them to the circle of the wire.

Great! Finally it’s done, I watched my own masterpiece and felt so happy. Maybe later I could do some hair extensions or clip in hair extensions when grow up. Then I went to the mirror, wearing the wig and appreciating myself. “Well, well, well, I am really like a lady!” I wondered that the wig could also sell a good price after that my own hair growing longer, but I was really a bit reluctant! “Really good-looking! Really good-looking!” I said to myself. With my chin in one hand, the other hand on the waist, I did the buttocks wriggling myself. I just felt myself really like a decent movie star! Hey, so good, I was so cheerful.

Ping-ping! who is at the door, oh! It was mom and dad came back, I hurried to open the door, “Oh! My God!” Seeing my stranger outlook, my parents were very surprised. Mother covered the belly and laughed to bent, and her tears were flowing out. She said, “It is really the mischief done by ugly person.” It was so interesting that I felt a little embarrassed and lied on the bed laughing. The whole family were merged into a cheerful atmosphere.

It’s been a long time, but I haven’t forgotten it. Up to now, I’m still so young. I still treasure that wig and the name “tomboy” rings still in my ear.

Compared with the forty year old shabby dormitory I am living in now, the one I lived in for three years in high school was heaven: three students who loved the wigs shared one brand new suite with air conditioners and a bathroom. In three years we changed it thoroughly: the colour of the floor turned from bright pink into muddy black, and the closet a hive of insects proliferating among piles of rotten fruit.

And our masterpiece was the bathroom, a never drying swamp which served as the habitat of various kinds of things, and even rodents, rats would occasionally take the trouble to pay us a visit, and a fake man who in the wigs, hair extensions and clip in hair extensions, all three of us felt like sobbing when we at last had to say good bye to our lovely filthy dormitory. Maybe it is because that the dormitory had changed us as well as we’d changed it. The first lesson our dormitory taught us was to look after ourselves.

Frankly speaking, we were not good students at all. I still remember the underwear that was soaked in soapy water for one and a half years before it was finally thrown away. Almost each of the boys’ dormitories had gradually developed its own unique “fragrance” usually a mixture of rotten fruit, unwashed socks, stunk towels and some junk food. We could tell one dormitory from another by sniffing instead of looking. Our tolerance towards untidiness was amazing.

However, in spite of all this, we really did make some progress. Bit by bit, we started to wash dirty clothes before they stunk, cleaned the garbage bin when it could hold no more trash, we even used brushes in a not-so-successful attempt to refurbish the floor. The point was that we were not obeying any order, we did every bit of the cleaning for ourselves, because we wanted to live in a better place. Though nothing we did could be called an achievement, it was the first time we fully bore the consequences of our deeds, and took the responsibility. Thus it was not surprising that I often found myself the only one to clean up my university dormitory which looked no better than a garbage bin when my roommates felt normal of it.

When talking about our dormitory life, talking about the wigs, and probably all the dormitory life, we should never leave out one thing. This was what we called “bed talks”. Though it was considered “illegal,” there was nothing to stop us from deliberately starting a heated discussion right after lights were out. It was our love and the only way of ending our day, and we were as punctual for it as our parents are for work. What was the most common topic? Girls, of course! What other topics were there for three energetic adolescent males lying comfortably in bed? We judged them, ranked them, argued over them night after night without feeling the slightest sense of boredom for three whole years. Were we maniacs? Who is not a maniac at eighteen?